i…don’t know what to say. i haven’t been through this much pain because of grief in forever. before he died, he looked just like my grandfather. as crazy as my family makes/made me, my grandpa was the one who didn’t have to say anything and got me. even if he, too, drove me nuts sometimes. when he died, my bulimia went into a tailspin but i wasn’t able to process this at 21. i had returned from a 6 month study abroad in paris, absolutely loathed it, and previously i had gone insane at home and i had to go basically and when i came back….my grandpa waited to see me then died the next day.

my uncle….there’s no words to describe. he was a really prolific photographer, like a very famous one, but he was just this dude. who got a lot of us young kids, who was a gen x-er as opposed to a boomer, who was an artist. who was deeply insecure and had to prove himself and he always did. because i’m 29, because i saw him deteriorate, because because because it’s too much. i don’t want to grieve like this anymore.

i have been helping my aunt with his studio and orders of his products (his prints, sk8board decks with his photos, post-cards, etc) and getting things in order. before he died….my bro, me, and my cousin saw him in his studio in the beginning of may. he said: you can come here, you can shoot (film) here, you should do youtube, you can do anything.

i’m so mad at myself and him and the world because he should have stayed. he’s so fucking loved. why did this happen? thank you for all your condolences and i’m so sorry to people that have had this happen, too. thankfully my (maternal) aunt can get help hopefully. her diagnosis was terminal but she’s still here; we thought my uncle would go into the hospital, get surgery, come out. things are getting better but also worse. too much.